Taken By Day
by The Magnetic Witch
Summary: Three countries are taken by daylight, left to the non-existent mercy of scientists and extremists who would like nothing more then to gain access to the alluded country immortality, at any cost, even as countries attempt to track them down before it's too late. Trigger warning; Blood, possible gore, angst, language, possible non-con. Rated-T for now.
1. Chapter 1

_**Taken By Day**_

_This is heavily inspired by the fantastic fanfic which has been on hiatus for several months now, _The Weakest Link, _which_ _is_ _here in the APH section of FF… I do indeed give the Author credit for the original idea of some of the APH Countries being kidnapped and sending videotapes out to the close friends and family of the Countries, but I sincerely swear that all the rest is my own inspiration. If you've read _TWL_ and find something far too similar for your taste that isn't of the aforementioned things mentioned above, do __NOT__ hesitate to send me a PM or review telling me so. I shall endeavor to do my best to correct it… I'm a bit of a people pleaser. ;P_

_**And apologies to the Norwegian fans**__ over Norway's surname in this fic (I've heard it's unpopular to you Northerners due to a politician), but I'm genuinely just used to using and reading Bondevik in reference to Norway. Please let me know if this offends you, though only if you're actually Norwegian, in which case I'll change it to Steillson or something for the giggles._

_**Side note;**__ I'm American, have always been American, will always be American, have never left America even though I'd love to visit all of Northern Europe or Iceland sometime, and as such I'm unfamiliar with most all of European slang but for Great Britain (The Harry Potter fandom is a great asset there!), so I could use fan help there! Along with Translations, if you please. UuU_

_APH doesn't belong to me; pretty sure Hidekaz has better things to do then write fanfiction_

_– CHAPTER ONE –_

Norway, though his expressionless face revealed nothing, was actually rather unsettled. For the last five blocks someone had been following both him and Iceland, and he couldn't determine if he, Iceland, or both were the targets of this stalker… Norway spared the slightly taller male a glance. No, it was unlikely Emil was the target of this stalker, and he wasn't thinking that in hopeful thinking. If anything, Norway would normally assume Iceland was the target and spirit him away to some bunker in America – surely the outgoing nation wouldn't mind? Realistically, however, Norway was more of a target, and as such, stiffly paused just enough mid step for his brother to look at him.

"I forgot to get butter," Lukas stated, as if just remembering. Emil had an exasperated expression as he stared at the elder. "Seriously?" He asked. Norway nodded. He made to turn around, but paused just enough. He took out his phone just for a second, sending Emil a text. "Don't read it until you're a bit away," Lukas commanded as Emil made for his phone. Emil stared at Lukas, startled at the seriousness in his tone, but nodded uncertainly.

Lukas turned around to walk away, waving slightly, and Emil couldn't help but stare, as if he hadn't seen that same wave hundreds of times before. He couldn't help but feel there was something different about the wave this time, but shook himself; that was a ridiculous thought.

Two blocks away, Emil was rather puzzled as he finally read the text.

Four blocks away, Lukas was unconscious in the back of a white, black tinted window van.

_Head straight home and don't do anything stupid. – Bror_

Lukas was taken within three minutes of having Iceland go on his way.

* * *

><p>Romano, or South Italy, or even just Lovino Vargas, was in a rather poor mood even by his usual standards. Some <em>idiota<em> had broken into his own house! Where were guards when you need them? No, scratch that, he was doing a full mandatory sweep of anyone who'd been on his property in the _last six months_! Call him paranoid, but hey; he had the Italian Mafia, and there was always some bastard wanting to kill off the boss. It didn't help that Lovino was the _boss_ boss, but he chose to ignore that for the moment.

Holding his loaded hand gun in front of him, Lovino checked around the corner. He could only be grateful he'd sent Antonio home earlier, because he'd hate for the country to go on a bloodthirsty rampage on whoever broke into his house. Not that they wouldn't deserve it, but blood was ridiculously hard to get out of carpet.

Lovino walked around the corner, hands steady as he peered this way and that for the intruder. Someone had deactivated his house security… There were sensors linked from his house to Antonio's – and yes Lovino knew about them, Antonio was such a worrier it was simply easier to pretend he didn't know – that should have activated by now, and with it Antonio in his Conquistador mode should be happily slaughtering anyone unfamiliar he'd come across by now with his trusty axe.

Lovino opened the door to his left in the long hallway, pushing it open as softly as he could and gritting his teeth at the creak it made. He walked inside carefully, hazel eyes narrowed. Seeing no one in the rather sparse room – he made a mental note to get more furniture for it – he made to turn around when–

_WHAM!_

Lovino staggered from the force of the hit. Had someone been hiding behind the door?!

_WHAM!_

Lovino crumpled to the ground, eyes bleary and dizzy and _god damn it_ but he should have paid better attention–

_WHAM!_

Lovino was unconscious at the third hit.

His kidnapping took place within twenty minutes of coming home.

* * *

><p>Canada, or Matthew to his twin and France, was humming slightly to himself as he made to go home. He'd left Kumajiro at home today as people tended to get freaked out if someone walked around with a polar bear, but he had special ice cream for the bear in apology. Hopefully he wouldn't be mad!<p>

Matthew dropped his groceries, however, in bewilderment and no small amount of anger when he saw several people attempting to break into his house. They were dressed, not in the stereotypical black, but a pristine white, though they each wore shades that were black as could be expected. Matthew's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What do you think you're doing, _eh_?" He snapped. A couple jerked, and they all turned to stare at Matthew. Matthew would normally have felt unnerved, but Kumajiro was in there and he wasn't risking him getting hurt.

Two suddenly lurched forward – there were six or seven in total, Matthew hadn't paid attention – and Matthew, taken off guard, was unprepared for when they grabbed ahold of his arms, taking him to the ground with them.

A third hand was pressing a cloth to Matthew's face and he unintentionally inhaled. There were spots in Matthew's vision as the cloth was kept there despite his gradually weakening struggles, and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Matthew's kidnapping took less than five minutes.

* * *

><p>When Lukas woke up, he was irritated. A moment later, he remembered sending Iceland home and couldn't help but hope Iceland hadn't actually been the target and if he had been then <em>what had he been thinking<em>? But when he took in his surroundings, Lukas knew with certainty Emil hadn't been who the stalker had been tracking.

Actually, now that he noticed, he wondered how he'd initially missed the two other males in the room. Resisting the urge to uncharacteristically groan, Lukas slid over to the nearest one, an auburn haired man who was face down against the cement floor. Lukas rolled him over as gently as he could, but when his hand accidentally brushed against the man's head he twitched. _Maybe he was knocked out with brute force_, Lukas thought.

When Lukas saw his face, however, he let out a soft "Ah," as he recognized the well-known features; this was South Italy, better known by Romano. Lukas pursed his lips; Romano's head wound looked painful and would probably throb painfully when he woke. Coming to a decision, Lukas took off his jacket – it was actually slightly cold though bearable for the moment – and after folding it slid the cloth under Romano's head carefully, trying not to jog him if he could avoid it.

That done, Lukas began inspecting the other inhabitant of the small room. Sliding himself back over towards the other man, Lukas took note of the curl. So it was Canada? Well, better check for head injuries, he mused to himself.

Doing so, Lukas found none. They probably used a chemical if there were no head wounds. As he finished making sure there weren't other signs evident, however, the Canadian began to stir.

"_Ooh_," Canada moaned slightly. Lukas slid back so as to not be within his personal space. Canada slowly sat up, face scrunched in discomfort, though when he caught sight of Lukas staring he did a double take before squeaking, "Norway?!" Norway raised a hand in greeting. "Hej," He replied apathetically. Canada seemed startled when he noticed the Italian on the ground, head still resting on Norway's jacket. "Is that–oh my god, that's _Romano_!"

Norway nodded. "His head was hurt, so I assume someone used something like a bat, maybe a pipe." Canada gave a slight shiver. "A pipe? Are you sure you're not talking about Russia now, Norway?" He asked in trepidation. Norway nodded, drawing his knees close to his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Ja. Russia can be intimidating, but he isn't the type to send anyone to do his work. Nor even send someone after a fellow country." Norway pointed out. Canada nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's true… I actually feel kind of bad for even thinking of Russia now," The blonde admitted. Norway merely nodded.

Romano muttered something in his unconscious state.

There was silence for a while, long minutes with neither Canada nor Norway speaking. Norway drew into himself more as it seemed to get colder and Canada even started to seem slightly cold himself. Maybe it was a sign of it being nighttime outside, wherever they were.

Romano eventually woke up, and while it was a bit strange he didn't curse to the moon and back, it made more sense when he stated his head throbbed too much to bother. He did thank Norway reluctantly for the jacket however as he returned it, so at least manners weren't dead yet.

Norway stiffened suddenly, and both Romano and Canada turned towards him. He held up a finger, staring at the metal door. A second later and both Canada and Romano heard it; footsteps.

All three watched the door; Norway watched in his usual apathy, though his eyes were narrowed dangerously. Romano's teeth were grit and he seemed to be attempting to glare a hole through the metal. Canada watched with a mix of trepidation and anger, hands twitching as though he'd like nothing more than to possess America's superhuman strength and throw the door at whoever was coming.

The footsteps, which had been progressively gaining strength, suddenly stopped. No one seemed to breathe for a moment. And then the door slammed opened.

* * *

><p><em>A bonus to whomever with an account can guess my favorite Hetalia character; you'll get to choose one (spoiler word) idea for Canada, Romano, or Norway in this ficlet, and you're choice who!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_**Taken By Day**_

_Oh my _gosh_, I hope my single follower is PLEASED with this chapter! It is SO HARD to constantly correct myself when I refer to someone by their country name when I've made it a point of familiarity to use their human names! And yes, Iceland gets a bit of a shock this chapter… Actually, you could say Norway does, too! ;D And thank you for following my story, noble story-follower O'mine who I shan't name, I sincerely appreciate it, especially since I've read some of your work! And as usual, I don't own this and hope you enjoy! UuU And as a sign of good faith, I made this longer then the first chapter! :D_

_– CHAPTER TWO –_

All three jumped when the door slammed open. There stood three men, two with separate shades of brown hair, and one with flecks of gray. Two had brown eyes while the third had blue. They didn't appear like the sort to kidnap a person, nor a Country, and each had rather ordinary features.

"Greetings, Personifications of Norway, Canada, and South Italy," Said the man with greying hair. He stared at them impassively behind silver rimmed glasses, and it somehow seemed colder then Norway's usual gaze.

Romano lurched to his feet angrily, startling Canada, "What the hell are we doing here?" He barked out. The man tilted his head in an almost innocuous manner. "You are here as… Volunteers, shall we say. My acquaintances and I shall endeavor for you to remain unharmed whilst in this room. You may refer to me as Doctor A, while the men behind me are Doctor C and Doctor F."

Norway's eyes narrowed even more, looking almost like North Italy for a moment. "Code names, perhaps membership order. An attempt at a show of organization and commitment. Maybe even a sign of obsessive compulsive tendencies from the leader. Don't tell me there are twenty six members in total?"

Doctor A aimed an unfriendly grin at Norway that promised future pain. "Why, you _are_ as intelligent as our reports led to believe! We were worried when you seemed to fall right into our scouts hands. Almost makes me want to be there personally for your first lesson. South Italy was originally scheduled first, but I'm sure Doctor B would love to help in disciplining unruly subjects."

Norway remained stone faced as Romano paled and Canada sent Norway a concerned glance.

Doctor A gave an almost exasperated sigh that might have seemed friendly from someone else. "Ah, well, and here I just wanted to give you a bit of a welcome to our facility… There's going to be a live show tomorrow, Norway, so do perform splendidly." With a callous wink and sharp grin the man departed, dragging his two silent companions with him as they wordlessly relocked the door.

The three were quiet for several moments, Romano and Canada pale while Norway seemed entirely unaffected. "Are you going to be okay, Norway?" Canada asked quietly. Norway shrugged. "There's not much of a choice, and it was obvious it was going to be South Italy first. The man, Doctor A, kept looking at you," Norway added at their blank looks of incomprehension. Romano, rather uncharacteristically, asked quietly, "Did you bait the bastard on purpose?"

Norway nodded, glancing away.

There was silence again, only to be broken some minutes later when Canada asked, "How did you even get caught?"

"I noticed a man had been following my brother and I for some time, so I sent him ahead by saying I forgot some butter before turning around to confront him. I… Lost." A brief grimace appeared on Norway's face at the admittance and both Romano and Canada snorted.

"I actually came home from shopping when I saw some men in white trying to break into my house and they got me with chloroform," Canada volunteered. Romano flushed and looked away when the other two turned to him expectantly. "… I was attacked from behind after wandering around with one of my guns when I realized someone broke into my house and deactivated my security."

The other two nations clapped. "Wow, Romano, that's more exciting than mine!" Norway nodded. "Ja," he stated in agreement. Romano stared at them with a bewildered stare. "Right…"

"Um," Canada began shyly, drawing the attention of Norway and Romano. "Since we might be stuck here awhile and all until someone finds us, you can call me Matthew." Romano said next, "I guess you can call me Lovino then. But if you call me Lovi I'll make you choke on your spleen," He warned. They both turned to Norway. Norway looked away as he said, "Lukas."

"… Do you think anyone's noticed we're missing?" Asked Lovino out of the blue, an hour later. Matthew and Lukas turned to him and Lovino flushed. Matthew blushed as he realized that no, no one would realize he was missing until the meeting tomorrow, and that was only because Francis and Alfred would freak out… And it would be the most epic freak out ever. Lukas pursed his lips, Emil might think something was wrong, but then again he was only visiting in Iceland, which was conveniently the place of tomorrow's meeting, so Emil might assume something important had come up which cut his visit short, but Denmark… Lukas closed his eyes at the thought, a twitch developing in his eye. Lovino sighed as he mused how badly Feliciano or Antonio might freak out…

"I'm doomed," Matthew sighed. There were gloomy, pathetic moans of agreement from Lukas and Lovino.

"No use worrying," Lukas sighed, "might as well sleep, ja?" Lovino pursed his lips irritably at the thought of not even sleeping on a bed but assented as did Matthew. They fell asleep long minutes later.

* * *

><p>"<em>Get up<em>."

Lovino jerked awake, minutely panicked at the sound of something hitting flesh and the cold demand. He glanced at Matthew for only a moment, wide eyed, before looking at Lukas.

The pale blonde was glaring at the same man, Doctor A, from the day – was it day? – before, wiping at the thin trail of blood that leaked from the corner of his mouth. Had the man _kicked_ him? Doctor A grabbed Norway's arm harshly, jerking him to his feet, and Lovino lunged for him _because how dare he do that to a fellow country_–

Lovino collapsed as a burning, electrifying sensation ran down his body, just managing to hold in a pained shout. Doctor A chuckled as the man who held the tazer stepped calmly back into the hall, guarding the doorway. Matthew helped Lovino sit up with a wide eyed expression on his face. Doctor A, hands holding onto Lukas' arm like a steel trap, merely chuckled. "Ah, yes, any perceived threat is received appropriately with an equal amount of violence, thank you for volunteering as an example, South Italy."

Dragging Lukas out into the hall – and Lovino could see a bruise forming on his arm and face in the dim lighting – , Doctor A flashed the two a cold smile as the door closed loudly with a metallic clang.

"Will," Matthew seemed to swallow. "Will Lukas be okay?" Lovino took a moment to answer, coughing back a pained wheeze, before he replied bitterly, "It would be a fucking miracle."

* * *

><p>Lukas gulped the fresh air like it was something sacred, coughing and spluttering. His barrette had fallen off sometime earlier and was probably broken now so there was nothing to restrict Lukas' blonde bangs from getting in his eyes. The man holding his shoulders as he dunked his face in the water pushed him down again, and Lukas had no time to brace himself as–<p>

The water was noticeably cold, and it felt like ice each time it seemed to rush up to meet him. Lukas' struggles, much stronger at the first time, had weakened considerably by the eighth dunk, and even more so by the twelfth. Lukas made a weak thrash, red spots were filling in his vision again, his lungs burned and ached for air, the water stung his eyes and filled his mouth despite how hard he tried to keep it clamp…

Lukas coughed, hiccupping and wheezing all at once as he was let up again. Doctor A came in the sickeningly white, sanitized room looking almost pathetically innocent. "Ready for the show, Norway? I hope so; it's a bit of a surprise for our audience, see, so I want it to be a good one!" Norway would have spat in his _stupid, pathetic_ face if he had the strength, but all he could muster was an equally pathetic and hateful glare. Doctor A tsked.

"Now chap, I understand you might be a bit tired," Severe understatement and the bastard knew it too. "–but the show _must_ go on! We'll fix you up later… Maybe… Depends on the performance and all." Doctor A lead Norway by the arm in another strong vice grip and it took Norway several seconds to keep from swaying as he walked, lightheaded as he was, and struggled to keep up with the tall man's long pace. He was at least as tall as Sweden… Damn, and he'd have liked to see Sweden glare him in his place, too.

Doctor A finally slowed his walk when they reached a room with several computers, wires that led to and fro the metal walls that gleamed and shined almost sinisterly. Lukas looked through half lidded eyes at his surroundings, awareness slowly escaping him.

He jerked awake at a sharp slap to the face and reprimand from Doctor A, but he glowered in response. There was a large monitor that had STANDING BY on the grey screen, a loading icon appearing.

And then Lukas saw the faces of gawking nations around a long table.

"_NORWAY_?!"

* * *

><p>When America got to the meeting at twelve sharp, he figured it would be a good day. He didn't see Mattie around, though he might be hanging with – <em>ew<em> – Cuba again or something, though if he was happy then Alfred guessed that was alright. Alfred did his usual pre-meeting schedule, greeting Italy and Japan, teasing Artie, tossing a hi at France, and fist bumping Prussia and Denmark.

Iceland, who was leading the meeting as it was in his country, stood, calling role. Alfred wasn't worried when Mattie apparently was absent – he might have just caught a cold or something, though it was unusual he hadn't called or text someone about it first thing, though it _had _happened before. Mattie usually felt pretty guilty afterwards. Alfred would check first thing on break, and from the corner of his eye could see France deciding the same.

And then there was the beeping sound.

_Beep!_

_Beep!_

_Beep!_

Iceland had paused in the middle of roll, having prepared to call a name that sounded like it was Germany before being cut off by the consecutive beeps that were still continuing to sound, annoyingly enough.

On the screen behind him, reserved normally for skype calls from Iceland's boss or for emergency news involving the volcanos, a skype request was active. Alfred saw Iceland twitch. "Who gave someone the room code?" He snapped. People exchanged glances, shrugging.

Irritably, Iceland made to deny the request when a window popped up. Iceland read the message quietly, muttering under his breath, though abruptly paled. The nations who saw this raised brows and looked at the screen. Iceland looked up frantically.

"_Has anyone seen Romano, Canada, or Norway_?" Everyone gave a slight pause, beginning to look slightly uneasy, and Alfred could feel the easy going grin he had in place slipping, replaced by something more serious. "I haven't seen my brother since last week," He offered. France volunteered with trepidation, "I saw Mattieu two weeks ago."

Italy, frowning – which was decidedly creepy, Alfred realized – said, "I haven't seen fratello in a couple weeks…" Spain, beginning to look slightly pale added frantically, "I-I just saw Roma yesterday!"

"… No one's seen Norway since yesterday, either." Finland concluded softly.

Iceland, Alfred saw, seemed pale and shaky. "I–I just got a message saying that they weren't going to be appearing again, only it wasn't from any of my registered sources… And th-they're demanding I accept the skype call now," the younger nation hurried to add as another window popped up.

Denmark, looking unusually serious, said, "You better accept then, Ice." Iceland gave a jerky nod and more than one country watched in trepidation and unease.

When the screen blanked before loading and revealing a white, seemingly sterilized building, Alfred wasn't sure what to think. When Iceland's panicked, frightened half-shriek of "NORWAY?!" came, Alfred sat up straighter, any hint of a smile or light heartedness shed for a serious frown. Many other countries were the same as they caught sight of the Nordic on the screen.

Norway, a cold and impassive nation who was one of Artie's magic friends, looked half drowned and barely conscious, dark blue eyes drooping. There was a dark bruise on his face (_a crack began forming on the table under his hands from the death grip Alfred had because if this happened to _Norway_ of all nations then where was Mattie_?) which looked fresh, and maybe a hint of blood at the corner of his mouth, too. He was being supported, though maybe that was too kind a word, by a man with greying hair, though Alfred couldn't make out his face from behind his glasses very well.

Norway's head gave a slight jerk at Iceland's cry and stared at him, maybe amazed or some other unidentifiable emotion. "_Hej_." Iceland looked as if he wanted to cry now, and Alfred couldn't help but feel sorry for the teenaged nation despite is growing fury.

"_Hello one and all_!" God, even the man's voice made Alfred infuriated. "_As you can see, one of my volunteers, little Norway here, has gotten a bit, roughed up, shall we say? It's all in the name of science, of course_!" The man gave a jovial, light hearted laugh that made Alfred sick. "_We, that is me and my organization, merely wanted to inform you that we'll be keeping these three as an… Experiment. We only want to figure out how a human-like nation works! We might return them when we're done; they won't be of any use then… Well, until our next business call, ta_!" With a beep, the screen was blank.

Alfred only barely took note of when Iceland fled the room, shoulders trembling, and Italy and Spain's panicked proclamations and thickening voices.

Alfred just managed not to punch a hole in the table, though there was a deep crack by now.

Alfred stood up stiffly, face dark with anger. More than one nation turned towards him. "_Japan_! ("H-_Hai_!") Get yours and Estonia's tech, we've got a signal to track!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Taken By Day**_

**_Thank you so much, Puffinpixel,_ _for the highly informative review(s)._**_ I thanked you personally through PMing, but I felt it important to mention it in this chapter, too! UuU_

**_To the rest of my reviewers,_**_ thank you very much for taking the time to read and review! I read each and every review, and each one encourages me to write more and more. It makes me slightly teary eyed you all are eager for more! And thanks to those Followers and Favorites who didn't review! I read every single little thing that pops up in my email, so seeing these warm my heart. Thank you._

_Ah, and this was my first time actually writing a torture scene, and I was a bit hesitant because I didn't want to offend all those lovely and practically poetic torture scenes from other fics I've read, so let me know what you think? And sorry that this is shorter then last chapter, I began to feel self conscious by the end and started rushing! o/)/(\o;_

_Don't be afraid to send me a PM if you have questions or a request, I love talking to you people! And someone indeed guessed my favorite Hetalian so poor Canada has to suffer the consequences. ;) (The correct answer is Norway btw.)_

_PS, I don't actually have a Beta – this is all self-edited – so let me know if you see a mistake!_

_*EDIT, forgot the linebreak, sorry!_

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER THREE –<p>

Matthew jumped slightly as the door clanged open again, though nowhere near as bad as before. He supposed he was getting used to it by now. The lights in the hallway outside the metal door were suddenly blinding – they must have been purposely dimmed before.

Matthew shielded his eyes with a hand and could vaguely see Lovino doing the same from the corner of his eyes. "Well, hope you feel better, Norway!" Came the cheery voice of Doctor A. Matthew looked only when he heard what now the familiar closing of the metal door. On the ground collapsed on his knees was Lukas, shivering uncontrollably, his hair a mess. It was weird how strange it was for that to catch his attention, but maybe that was a sign… Or something, Matthew realized he was thinking vaguely even as he rushed to the shorter male's side.

"Lukas?" Matthew asked. Lovino worked on getting the Norwegian's clothes off, dripping wet as they were and cold as it already was. Lukas didn't really fight. "I l-let my l-lille br-ror s-see me like th-this," Lukas seemed to moan through chattering teeth. Lovino paused only a second as he struggled with Lukas' jacket.

"Did you see the meeting, then?" Matthew worked to keep his voice controlled. "Ja," was the jerky reply. Lovino _tched_ in irritation, "The bastard's probably keeping the room cold on purpose," he muttered under his breathe and Matthew realized it wasn't what Lukas said that irritated him.

Matthew turned his attention to Lukas again as another forceful shiver occurred. "Oh, here," Matthew fumbled over the buttons of his own jacket that was just as long as his usual one. "You can use this," He offered, and that seemed to be the last straw as the male shred any dignity, practically jumping out of his clothes for the dry, much warmer jacket. Matthew and Lovino looked away, both faces slightly pink.

"Oh. Your face is bruised." Lovino acknowledged. Matthew looked for himself and, indeed, there was a bruise forming. Lukas didn't seem to be bothered, but then countries generally weren't bothered by bruises but for the first few decades.

"… How did the meeting seem?" Lukas, if he were anyone else, may have had a crumpled face. Instead he turned from Lovino, staring perhaps too bitterly at a wall. "L-lille bror-r looked f-fit t-to cry. Yours w-wasn't much better. America l-looked as if he were about to g-go on a rampage," Lukas added through cold tremors at Matthew's interested glance.

Both nodded in unhappy acceptance.

"I think we're in something much bigger than just what's happened so far," Mathew said quietly. Lukas and Lovino gave him questioning glances. Matthew just stared at the wall, not really meeting their gazes. "I th-think the _Doctor_ was t-toying with them," Lukas added after a moment through chattering teeth. "I-it was like a phone call, but-t crueler. He had me as p-_proof_, I think, ev-ven though it was su-such a short call."

Lovino looked like he wanted to kick the wall in frustration. "Damn it… _Damn it_. What does this guy even _want_? What do people like him _ever_ want? I – _per amore di Dio_!" Lovino finally burst out, voice taut with rage.

The Norwegian and Canadian respectively kept they're distances, weary of making a wrong move with the Italian in a volatile state such as then.

It was silent for a long while apart from their breathing.

The door opened as loudly as it usually did though all three still gave small jumps.

It wasn't Doctor A in the doorway this time, but a separate man with very dark hair and emotionless gray eyes of steel. He wore a stereotypical white lab coat, and the pockets seemed to be bulging with something or other. His eyes swept over the three Nations and each tensed at his predator-like gaze, not unlike those of a hawk pursuing prey.

With lips pressed together in a tight, thin line he nodded at someone behind him. Another man – taller than the first – stepped forward and grabbed Lovino by the arm. He pulled back but found himself being dragged.

Lukas, who was pressed against the wall, kept glancing from Lovino towards the hall, obviously having some idea of what to expect, and Matthew, who remembered the last time someone attempted to help Lukas, hesitated.

Matthew really, _really_ hoped Lovino understood. By the way he set his jaw, he understood just fine. And the door closed once again, ominously ringing even after it shut.

* * *

><p>Lovino pulled against the hands holding onto him, giving out obscenities like free candy under his breath. "–<em>fucking goddamned potato sucking<em>–"

And then he saw the room he was being dragged into.

There were white tiles that had suspicious stains and a stainless steel table with leather straps in the center. There was more than one table, but what caught Lovino's eyes were the tools set by each table. He eyed them, suddenly much paler.

He fought much harder against the hands holding him and still they dragged him as if he were no more than a small child. (_He thought that maybe if he really were one then he wouldn't have an idea as to what was about to happen_.) Lovino's breath hitched as he caught sight of a particularly large scalpel.

He was forced on the table by the much larger man, forced to feel the tightening of the straps as the man worked effortlessly. Lovino made brief eye contact with the man and was harshly reminded of Antonio – of _Spagna_ – by the vibrant green in them. Then the man looked away and the moment was over.

The same emotionless and cold man from before was standing over Lovino now, staring in an almost curious manner.

He took out a sharpie marker and for a stupid, hopeful moment Lovino hoped he was just making a cursory note. His hopes were dashed as the man began making lines on his arm. Lovino looked away as the man began talking to what must have been an assistant.

"This is Test Subject No. 2, who we'll be vivisecting the left arm of… Write down emotional responses, no anesthesia is being administered. Results will be used for future comparisons with No.'s 3 and 1." The commands were cold and calculated. Lovino almost suspected then and there of the man being a Sociopath for not even seeming remorseful about this.

Lovino winced as he felt the first slice; an almost tentative, feeling press. Tiny beads of blood swelled up. And then the scalpel sliced as though it were a pair of scissors with paper, slicing from the crook of Lovino's elbows down to his wrist. Much larger beads and droplets of blood began flowing from the shallow cut.

And then there was blinding pain.

Lovino tried his hardest in the beginning not to scream; he wouldn't dream of giving these people the satisfaction! He lost that resolve when he finally succumbed and looked, seeing the bone drill laid out in preparation as they began peeling away layers of muscle.

"Stop it," Lovino begged, gasping through the pain as his hands clenched uselessly at his sides. "Stop it, please! I've done nothing to you, s-stop it–!" A scream wrenched its way from his throat unbidden as the scalpel began dissecting its way through muscle. "Per favore!" Lovino shrieked at what felt like thousands of stabs at once, the horrible and consuming stench of blood making him wish to empty the contents of his stomach.

Each single layer that was peeled away was utterly agonizing. He screamed and cried, pleading in fervent and half delirious mixtures of Italian and English, and at high points of the pain in Spanish.

And then Lovino began sobbing when he saw through blurry eyes the bone drill being picked up.

"Per favore – _no_ – Spagna, per favore, _per favore_ _make it stop_!"

Lovino, frayed emotionally and physically, didn't so much as twitch as when the man and his assistant – a woman in sharp glasses – began quietly discussing the pros and cons of allowing him to recuperate. His consciousness failed him sometime about that he vaguely recognized the man being passed stitching materials.

The warmth of his blood being disgustingly sticky and cold feeling – or maybe _he_ was cold – was the last thing that Lovino recalled.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Taken By Day**_

_Ha ha, I'm glad everyone liked my last chapter! And indeed, do go read _The Weakest Link_; it's the source of inspiration for this fic, and with longer torture scenes so there's that for ya fellow torture lovers! … Along with a slightly Rare pairing – ah ah, no spoilers from ME! – but it's just a really great and wonderfully written piece of work that I'd recommend to anyone who enjoys Angst or loss of innocence, so to say, and can stomach torture. UuU_

_To be honest, I was kind of anxious posting the last chapter; I've never really written a torture scene before and I found it kind of lacking in a way… So I'll make it up to you guys by having some familial angst this time! :,D_

_THANK YOU TO ALL WHO REVIEWED, FAVORITED, AND FOLLOWED! You're what drives me to write!_

_Oh, and by the way… I'm getting to the part of POSSIBLE or IMPLIED pairings… I haven't decided yet, though I might make a poll so go vote on that if I get around to it! :D_

_*Note: Instead of longer chapter's, I'm sticking to quicker updates. I guarantee no chapter from me will be less then 1,100 words at the very least!_

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><p>– CHAPTER FOUR –<p>

Alfred grit his teeth. It was amazing his teeth hadn't turned into a fine white powder at this point, though that was small in the face of just how little progress they were making.

It had been the third day since that skype call and he hadn't slept a wink since then. Rumor was that Spain had completely lost it and was using every financial support he could and was calling in old favors to track down Romano. Italy was said to be using every possible connection from legal means to the mafia, though it wasn't as though Germany or Japan would rat him out in this case. Or Alfred for that matter. But no one knew what the Nordics were doing; they were a bit of a mysterious bunch like that.

Alfred ran a hand through mussed, limp hair. Who would do this and why? No, the why probably had to do with the biology of them all, truthfully, and everyone knew it. Indeed, the _who_ was the important part. Who had enough resources and people to simultaneously kidnap three nations in completely separate parts of the globe? Not many humans could claim that feat.

With thin lips, Alfred stared at the rapidly blurring computer screen. He rubbed his eyes. He would sleep when this was all over, even if it took weeks or months. Remember how Norway had looked, Alfred paled and really, _really_ hoped it wouldn't actually take that long.

But… Maybe a nap wouldn't hurt, in just a couple hours.

Alfred ignore the fact that he told himself that two hours previously, he would sleep in just a couple hours…

Just a couple more hours.

But until then, Alfred would hardly blink even as he drank his fourteenth cup of coffee that day. Even as lines of tracking code and data swam in and out of his vision. Because Alfred may act the idiot but he was anything but, and he wanted his _brother_, his _twin_, his _neighbor_, back in one piece; safe and sound.

And so he drank from the cup of coffee Toris brought him, ignoring the heaviness both in his eye lids and heart.

* * *

><p>Emil sniffed. Leon had an arm draped around his shoulders, not really saying anything, though it wasn't as if he could. "I saw him turn around."<p>

"I know."

"I could have _stopped_ him! I knew something was up, but I just-just walked away! And he let me!"

"Norway wouldn't have let you stay, you know that." Leon reminded gently, pulling the slighter male closer. Emil's eyes watered. "B-but I cou-_could_ have… He knew something w-was wrong and sent me away… Why wouldn't he l-let me _help_ _him_?"

Leon cupped Emil's face, having Emil's violet orbs gaze into his own brown ones. "Norway is your brother, right, and he loves and cherishes you more than anything. What would you have done in his position? A position where you had to choose between you and him… Like, I _know you_, Em, and you'd totally have done the same thing. You know it too, right, so don't get mad at anyone but, like, the people who took him, yeah?"

Emil nodded, wiping at his eyes even as he burrowed his face in the crook of Leon's neck. "I'll kill them," Emil stated thickly. Leon said nothing and merely held him tighter. "I'll kill them, I swear, because they took Nor… They hurt them and I'll watch them _burn_."

"You'll have to beat America and Spain for that honor," Leon reminded, forcing his tone to remain light. Emil nodded against him. Leon shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning back against the couch. "We'll find him." Leon told him. Emil said nothing. "We totally will. And then I'll tell Norway how you, like, _doubted_ we would find him and Norway'll give you, like, that look he gives Denmark when he does something really stupid, you know? The one he does right before he chokes him. And then he'll totally tell you to call him big brother as a welcome home present."

Emil gave a thick hiccup for a laugh. "After th-this, I don't think I-I'll ever argue ov-ver calling him big b-brother again." Leon nodded, "That'll totally make his day if you say that."

"… I'll practice; s-so it won't seem as emb-embarrassing."

"As long as it's not, like, in front of a mirror. Then I'll really start worrying."

"D-do you think you c-could help me practice with that old flameth-thrower of Finland's for when we f-find Nor?"

"Do I get a kiss?"

"… I'll hit you." Emil grumbled as he turned pink, but Leon smiled anyways because even if Emil's eyes were still kind of wet and red and bloodshot, this was far better because he wasn't blaming himself anymore.

* * *

><p>Antonio paced as he'd been doing, eyes trailing over the monitors in front of him. These were all connected wirelessly to a main visual feed from his poor Lovi's house, and it made Antonio absolutely furious to think someone had managed to render them in a repeating loop despite the impeccable firewalls he had equipped them with.<p>

Whoever these people were, they were good. But that would just make it all the more enjoyable for Antonio to crush them. He'd split open their heads with his best and most polished axe! He wasn't feared by all his colonies but Lovi for nothing, and he'd show these people precisely why they had feared him personally.

The fact that they had the absolute _audacity_ to send him a CD with an excellent view of them brutally _dissecting_ Lovi's arm made Antonio's blood boil, especially remembering how Lovi had called out for _him_.

He would find these people and he would take great joy in making them scream. Antonio could feel the old acquaintance of blood lust rising in him and let out a feral grin as he imagined his beautiful Lovi's horrible screams replaced by the awful man and woman who made _him_ scream.

He wouldn't just leave it at painful vivisection of the arm, but rather their _faces_, and see how much _they_ liked being cut open!

Plan in mind, Antonio returned to unscrambling the looped feed, hoping for an image of a face he could track.

Across the house Antonio was in Feli would be making his plans, Antonio knew logically. Germany would be there, and Prussia would constantly be going between those two, comforting Francis – the nation dearly loved his former colony – and checking with him.

Feli was likely equipping with an arsenal of guns and knives. Nothing Germany could think of saying would be able to deter the normally calm and sweet Italian in his blood thirsty quest; not when someone had tortured his brother. Just a snapped comment of how Germany would feel if it was Prussia in Romano's place would silence that argument.

Indeed, Antonio couldn't wait until they found these monsters just so he could see little Feli enact a bit of his own slice of revenge.

And so Antonio took back to the looped feed, searching for answers.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Taken By Day**_

**_PuffinPixel_**_: Why, torture without a point? NOOOOO… Ha ha, but no, we actually DO approach the point of why there was a video sent out to Spain in the first place sometime… Just not now… ;D_

_Thanks for the suggestions regarding pairings, I listen to and appreciate each suggestion and review! :D_

_The prized holy divine punishment directed at Canada is in this chapter for the lovely reviewer who guessed correctly on Norway being my favorite character! :D You could say Canada might be… BITTER over it HUE HUE HUE... ;D *Cough* I'm sorry, that was a bit of a dead COLD pun… Killmenow._

_*This was a really hard chapter to write for me for some reason… My fingers refused to type! I should have finished this yesterday! X,D This is why I don't have an updating schedule… And hooray for second-timer torture scenes! :D :D :D_

_I'll give you guys a voting bone for the reviews probably most chapters now;_

**_VOTING BONE_**_: To PruCan or not to PruCan?!_

* * *

><p>– CHAPTER FIVE –<p>

"Professor Zero, Doctor A is here to see you," Intoned a woman's voice. Professor Zero looked up, smiling almost jovially. "Ah, is he? Send him in!" The woman ducked out, and a minute later Doctor A popped in, his usual grinning face marred by a frown that had Professor Zero beginning to frown himself.

"What is it that has you so serious, Charles? Is there something wrong with the test subjects?" Professor Zero asked lightly, eyes narrowed.

Doctor A, or Charles, shook his head. "No, nothing like that, or I don't think so, but… Professor, I think we have a bug." Professor Zero sat up straight, expression going blank with rage at the thought. "_What_? Why do you say that, is there a signal leading to us?"

"Sir… Professor, someone is sending videos to the, er, friends of the test subjects, and the order wasn't sanctioned by any of the inner circle – I checked." Professor Zero slowly relaxed as a thought came to him. "Ah… We can use this… Don't let anyone know you've realized this, Charles. These _Nation Personifications_ might have the psyche of a human, therefor making them weaker under emotional duress and more prone to mistakes." Doctor A nodded.

"Take note if any videos are sent after the next experiment… While not originally part of the plan, we can certainly use this to the best of our abilities. Though I expect news of who began doing this without orders."

"Of course, Professor."

* * *

><p>It had been a day since Lovino had been dropped back inside the small room. Whilst initially panicking over the poor state he was in, Matthew was able to check if the stitches had reopened even a bit from the drop he took when the men just shoved him in the room without warning. Lukas seemed shocked over something and remained tightlipped no matter how he asked, so Matthew had given up on answers from him.<p>

Lovino, in a horrible parody of the first day, had remained unconscious for several hours. Lukas forgot about decency – or his limitations in cold temperatures apparently – in the face of Lovino's apparent injury. Matthew found himself puzzled as to what that meant, though Lukas wouldn't say anything other than that it would leave deep scars. A suspicion nagged at the edge of Matthews mind, though he did his hardest to ignore it. He wouldn't accept an answer as horrible as _that_.

Lukas had finally been able to change back into his clothes a few short hours ago when, instead of soaking, they had cooled to a chilly dampness. The lack of heat in the room made it increasingly hard for things to dry or warm.

Matthew glanced up from his little corner of the room to observe Lovino, watching the steady rise and falling of his chest in a bit of self-assurance that, yes, he was still breathing. A quick look at the Norwegian showed he was frowning, though at what Matthew couldn't begin to guess.

Just as Matthew was about to make another futile inquiry the door opened again, softer than the previous times though just as loud. While there was a man in the doorway the other times the door had opened, this time there was a woman with long tangles of ordinary brown hair and ordinary blue eyes and a rather ordinary face, and overall the type of woman you'd least expect to be found in a place like this.

But maybe it was the way she looked at him that first alerted Matthew to the potential danger hidden behind her almost kindly figure. Or maybe it was the way Lukas was now looking at Matthew, as if he were walking to his funeral or to be burnt at the stake. Whichever it was, Matthew was officially on edge.

"Will I have to drag you or will you stand?" The woman's voice was flat, almost cynical, and it took Matthew a moment to answer. "I-I'll stand," He said. Though it would be better than being dragged, he rather didn't want to go. A brief look of surprise flashed across the woman's face, as though she hadn't expected an answer.

_She probably_ _hadn't_, reflected Matthew more than a tad bitterly; _she probably thinks we're nothing more than animals._

Nevertheless, Matthew stood on unsteady feet. He glanced one last time at Lukas – Lukas was pale, staring at the wall before glancing back at Matthew in an almost reluctant and wide eyed manner – before the door shut with the same clang as before. Matthew followed the woman when she glanced at him warningly before turning on her heel.

It was a short walk that, though only took but a couple minutes in reality, seemed to suddenly stretch for hours instead. This room had the same sickeningly sterilized feeling as the rest of the rooms, though there was a tank in the center instead nearly filled to the brim with water.

The woman, dressed in the same drab outfit and white lab coat as the men that came for Lovino and Lukas, gestured vaguely towards the chains on the ground as she turned towards her companions, "We're testing temperature adjustments on Test Subject No. 3. Take note of visual vital signs."

Matthew tried discreetly inching towards the door. Maybe if he was quick enough…

But no, the woman clasped one of the chains to his wrists. "W-what are you doing?" Matthew squeaked. The woman gave him an almost curious glance. "Submerging you in slowly cooling water to the point of freezing temperatures," was the wry reply. Matthew _felt_ himself pale. Submerging a nation in freezing water was dangerous, not just on the level of a human, but in the way it could affect the brain or heart…

There was a reason Russia hadn't quite been the same after an incident when he was younger and everyone knew it.

But Matthew merely grit his teeth as chains were added to his ankles. If he even attempted to run he wouldn't get very far, even if one didn't take into account that he didn't know the layout of the building. They might even decide to punish either Lukas or Lovino, and Matthew wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he caused them any unnecessary pain.

So he didn't fight more than the slight twitch or cringe as he was shoved into the water-filled tank. Icy talons of fear gripped Matthew's heart when a glass lid was sealed at the top, hardly leaving any room to breathe.

It was minutes later that Matthew slowly began to feel the cold biting at his limbs in numbing persistence. The chains on his wrists and ankles had already been weighing down on him, but the cold made it that much harder to keep afloat, made already difficult by the glass lid on top.

The cold gave Matthew a drowsy feeling. It was almost like coming home from a long day of work with the heater broken… The same cold that was familiar, that could be felt in the Canadian wind on a walk with faithful Kumo-whatsit…

Matthew didn't realize when his head began bobbing under the water, though he tried blinking rapidly despite the slight stinging to wake himself. Was it just him, or was there suddenly more water? No, it was the chains… He had forgotten to continuously keep himself afloat, and the chains had dragged him lower. It would take more energy than the Canadian had to spare to rise even a little.

Matthew felt a flash of panic stab through him suddenly. His limbs weren't moving how he wanted! Had they locked together? _Son of a_… was about as far as he got before water suddenly flooded completely over his head.

Matthew panicked at the total submergence of the water. This wasn't in any way, shape, or form pleasant, and these people, monsters, whichever!, probably knew it too, _so why wouldn't they just let him go_?

His lungs burned and ached for air, and when some water slipped in through his nostrils he coughed, or tried to. Instead he ended up inhaling, which just made him attempt to cough even more violently than before.

The red spots dancing around his vision were increasing at an alarming number, and Matthew gladly, almost gratefully, succumbed to the familiar friend of unconsciousness even as he lost feeling in the edges of his limbs.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Taken By Day**_

_What's this, a later update then previously? I'll have to actually apologize for that everyone. I'm still in high school – only sixteen after all! – so that takes priority over my writing… Plus, I'll admit it, I've been indulging in a couple of really nice conversations here on FF xD So I'm sorry for the delay!_

_And just because I really hate flat OC's, a bit of background this chapter! :O_

_Too be honest, this literally took me less than three hours to type up off the top of my head, so I just kept postponing it because I was in the middle of a book… I'm sorry! QwQ Ah, and to make it up… Well, I got nothing actually. xD But this isn't in a country's POV this time, so…_

_(Hey, we reached the twenty page and 10K words mark! :D Virtual cookies for everyone!)_

**_And as for PruCan_**_; it would appear that most of you are in favor of no PruCan, and after some further thought I've decided to make this a more family-involved sort of torture and healing fic. I hope you understand where I'm coming from! UuU_

**_VOTING BONE_**_; I welcome any and all torture ideas – insert evil laugh here – , but I'm having trouble coming up with ideas after this chapter, so kindly send me your best… Or worst! ;D_

_*EDIT: I had someone correct me in the Norwegian at the bottom of this chapter, so thank you! UuU_

* * *

><p><em>– CHAPTER SIX –<em>

Doctor A – or Charles White as was his real name –wasn't a bad man, or so he told himself. This wasn't really in the name of science for him personally. Yes, while he understood the essentiality and what good could come of this in helping people, he was honestly only in the Future Medicine HQ bunker for revenge.

A man in his early thirties, Charles had been unusually close with what little family he had left. His father passed away at an early age just after his brother was born in an automobile accident and his mother had never remarried, always working two or three jobs at once. His mother, a lovely woman by the name of Jessica White, had finally gotten a job offer ten years ago. Charles had wholly supported his mother while his younger brother, Anthony, had been reluctant to accept such a choice when it was oversees.

Both had seen her off at the airport, though she never made it off the plane. The plane, its destination intended for Norway, had a problem with the propellers. Her body had never been found despite their best efforts or maybe it had just been one of the few bodies recovered that was too charred to recognize or identify even by dental records.

Anthony, devastated at the loss of their mother, had blamed Charles for supporting their mother and pushing her towards the plane and untimely death. Charles denied the accusations but Anthony had after a final shouting match packed his thing and left without turning back. Even after a decade or so Charles hadn't heard from his younger brother.

But it was two years after his mother's death and drinking himself into a stupor in a shady bar that he first heard of human nations. While he had initially scoffed at the idea, the idea was planted and he realized over a span of several months that if you knew what to listen or watch for, then there were whispers of such "human nations" everywhere.

Charles, late one night, had stared at a framed photo of his mother taken just a week before her death. Charles turned it over, where the words _Onwards_ _for Norway!_ were written in a loopy, cursive scrawl. His mother's handwriting. But Charles eyes were stuck to one word.

_Norway_.

Charles had seen the picture of that specific human nation. He was hardly an adult in appearance with limited expressions and eyes the shade of cerulean. His mother's eyes had been just a tad darker, almost indigo really. His hair, a pale shade of blond, was almost reminiscent of Anthony's rich blonde locks. And when Charles remembered how the personification of Iceland was said to be his brother by blood, Charles slowly grew angrier.

Who was this thing, this _creature_, whose land Jessica White had attempted to travel for only to lose her life in the attempt? Who was this _human nation_ to have a brother while his own had left and his mother dead when this supposed _human_ nation was anything but a human?

And so Charles gradually grew bitter, left alone only with his thoughts on the matter. Bitterness grew to hatred, and hatred turned from a passionate red to a spiteful black. Then on the fourth anniversary of his mother's death, a sort of _miracle_ happened. He was approached by a man who called himself Professor Zero.

The Professor was kind and understanding, and explained that he was the founder of an organization dedicated to finding these _human_ _nations_ and studying the physiology of them to better understand the average human and create better medicine and methods of recovery. While Charles was disgusted at the thought of these things being considered useful, he was able to appreciate the kind Professor's point.

So he accepted the offer of joining the alluded organization.

It was Charles, of course, who suggested going after Norway. The personification wouldn't be guarded like nations such as Russia or America or even Britain, so what did it matter to the Professor? He accepted the suggestion, and that would have been that if someone hadn't suggested at least two more subjects. In hindsight it was a brilliant idea. Why not someone the Scandinavian was familiar with?

But it was not to be, it was rather decided they would take two other nations from separate geographical locations; the southern half of Italy, who was often referred to by the name of a cheese, and Canada, who most mistook for America. It was disgusting to learn, for Charles at least, that human nations could be related by _blood_. Twins and brothers? What next, mothers and father? The thought was almost too horrible to bare!

But Charles bore it, and he carried on for the next six years.

Six years was what it took for everything to be prepared. The proper channels chosen, the proper connections made, and they had the scheduled of the chosen nations. When Charles had observed the Norwegians' many interactions with several people – the one who he repeatedly demanded call him big brother was obviously Iceland, though he hadn't the faintest clue who the other "annoying brother" was – it was all he had to not lash out furiously.

When it became evident that Norway was most fond of the Icelandic personification it was agreed upon that they would use the younger brother as leverage. What they _hadn't_ anticipated was for Norway himself to see them and demand why they were following them. It was a simple thing to knock him out from behind, but it set them on guard. If Norway could see them after just a few blocks, would the others?

They did.

The southern half of Italy was always prepared, apparently. Perhaps he had some level of business in the mafia, it was impossible to tell, though that didn't change the fact that he'd been prepared with a gun beforehand. It was only solid luck that one of the retrieval team members thought he'd heard something and hid behind a door.

While that had been taken care of, it was pure luck and stupidity that the Canadian had caught the third retrieval team in the act of breaking into his house. Unfortunate, though at the very least taken care of, it was merely luck that allowed for none of the neighbors to have seen the swift nation-napping that took place.

It was enough for a migraine just thinking how embarrassing that had been!

But it was worth it, Charles remembered with an almost content grin. It was worth it _tremendously_. As Charles walked at a brisk pace to where the three nation personifications were being kept, he remembered seeing the appearance of the nation in mind.

He resembled Charles' brother greatly, along with the pictures of his deceased father, as though he were a parody. It was all the more reason to hate him, of course, but it was also that much more anticipated to break the impassive nation.

And as he slammed open the door and watched the nation's eyes burn into his, Charles knew he was alright with whatever this was even as the stare turned into a cerulean colored haze of nearly tangible hatred.

Charles grabbed the nation harshly by the arm, waving almost cheerfully at the dazed appearing Canadian against the wall and the dark faced Italian on the ground.

The nation personification let himself be led, or maybe it was a more apt description to say he was dragged like a disobedient dog that did no wrong(except exist of course!).

Charles chattered aimlessly even as he walked at an eager pace. The shorter nation struggled to keep up and nearly stumbled at least twice, not that he cared really, but it was almost satisfying to acknowledge. It wasn't until several minutes later that they finally reached the specific room Charles has reserved for one very special use.

It was satisfying to watch the nation look around until his eyes landed on the device in the center of the room. Charles could tell from the way the slighter and shorter male stiffened, and Charles gave a much sharper and more dangerous grin than before. The straps attached to the chair may have been a dead giveaway, though it was worth it from the slightest hint of apprehension on the male's face.

Hand straying to his pocket, the only warning the Norwegian got was a glimpse of Charles' too-broad grin before a pair of hand were around his neck. The human nation instinctively attempted jumping back as Charles locked the electric collar in place. He took a moment to admire it before dragging the male towards the chair.

As for the nation himself – _itself_ –, he – _it_? – appeared to be caught between crushing apprehension and unfamiliar fear. It delighted Charles to know that he was able to cause such an effect even if it was just as an accomplice for the moment by merely being in the same room.

The Norwegian would tremble at the sight of him before he left the room, whether by choice or not.

Charles effortlessly strapped the seemingly young male before him to the chair. He grinned at the male's expression even as he tightened the wrist straps with more force than strictly necessary. "You know," he said with an almost conversational tone, "it's almost funny. There've been videos sent out to the nations closest over the last two _tests_. I've no doubt we're being recorded right now if even the national personification of Canada's video was sent out."

The cerulean eyes gave no outward sign besides a slight tightening around the edges. "Fascinating," was the stiff reply. Charles merely _tsked_ in reply. "Now that's not a nice tone!" He reprimanded. The next glance over was almost deliberately disbelieving. "Then I suppose it's a good thing I've never been considered a nice person."

But Charles grinned even as he finished the restraints, pulling out his controller as he replied, "That would be true and agreeable enough if we hadn't watched you for a year, you know. Pretty fond of your brother there, yeah?" The nation's expression became furious immediately as he snapped harshly, "Hold lillebroren min utenfor dette!"

Charles merely pressed a button on the controller in his hands. "Manners," He chided even as the nation visibly bit back a yelp of pain and surprise at the sudden burst of electricity. _Oh_, _yes_, Charles thought gleefully. He would certainly have fun with this. Turning the dial, he was able to gain a small almost-scream. And so he kept turning the dial. And then turned it some more.

Norway certainly screamed then.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Taken By Day**_

_Oh my gosh why do you all read this I AM NOT WORTHY *sobbing wheezes and noises* Eh-hem._

**_Thank you_**_ to everyone who has favorited or followed or even just clicked on _Taken By Day_! Knowing people enjoy this means the absolute world to me… And the fact I've gotten a couple Author Favs and Follows? Mind blowing dudes, absolutely mind blowing... And humbling like you wouldn't believe. You guys are my inspiration, so don't forget that! :D_

_Sorry for the later-than-usual update, I got some minor Writer's Block, and I've also started a few other projects that I might post soon, so there's that. Updates are gradually slowing, obviously, compared to my every-couple-days updating, so while I can't give anymore guarantees of WHEN I will update, you've got my word I WILL update… I won't leave this baby to the depths of depressing Hiatus! :,D And grades take precedence over writing and brainstorming, so I've been busy with school. (Lucky me, huh? :P)_

**_VOTING BONE;_**_ Still looking for some torture ideas, though I've gotten a couple plans thanks to you wonderful Reviewers! :D_

_– CHAPTER SEVEN –_

The atmosphere within the small cell – no one could dare bring themselves to think of it as a room any longer – could at best be described as solemn. In truth the very air itself seem infused with anger and bitterness.

Lukas remained stubbornly quiet, twitching spastically every several minutes despite him having returned from beyond the safe confines of the metal door some hours ago. The gloom that seemed to permeate from his being was thick with the bitterness of the tense atmosphere. The burn marks around his neck were telling even if the twitching wasn't at first glance, and his gaze stayed resolutely on the ground in front of his feet.

Matthew, after his unmentioned exposure that was only hinted at through still blue-tinted lips and trembling fingertips, had remained in a corner as close as Lukas would allow without verbally biting his head off. Matthew, in as paranoid fashion as could be allowed or considered through cold tremors, continued staring at the door relentlessly even when it appeared to be they were getting a brief respite.

Lovino, despite what one may think at first, wasn't angry. Rather, he didn't appear to be feeling much of anything at the moment. Brief mockery of prayers would slip past his lips in strangled whispers of English or Italian in particularly quiet moments, though whether it was for himself, his brother or even Spain remained to be seen. His hazel eyes pointedly avoided looking at his left arm, which hung limply at his side.

Lukas morbidly wondered if the nerves had been damaged in some way which, while unusual, wasn't unheard of in nations.

Beyond the relatively safe confines of the cold cell-like room bangs and exceedingly loud voices would almost-distantly ring.

Lukas paused in his train of thought as another spasm coursed through his body and he cursed _Doctor_ _A_ in his mind once again. The man was an utter menace. A sadistic man that may or may not have sociopathic tendencies in his honest opinion, but a menace nonetheless. Matthew attempted scooting closer slightly, and while Lukas was tempted to have him quell under a fierce glare that a certain Dane had been subjected to more than once in the past, it honestly wasn't worth it with the possibility of hypothermia being a very real thing for the Canadian. Though Lovino's continuously blank face was worrying in itself, there wasn't anything Lukas could do.

Not that he could even begin the act of comforting them, though he very much wanted to at least _attempt_ to comfort both, but it hurt to even breathe at the moment, never mind speaking which would just irritate his throat.

The silence was beginning to feel suffocating, stifling. And so Lukas did something he rarely did, ignoring the burning and aching of his tender throat; he spoke first.

"Are you feeling better?" Right, so it was a horrible attempt, but practice made perfect. Lovino and Matthew both stared at Lukas and if he were anyone else Lukas' ears may have turned pink. As it was, Lukas merely stared back with a single brow raised pointedly.

Matthew gave a sort of cautious half shrug, as if he couldn't figure out why Lukas was even asking. Lovino stared at, or maybe through, Lukas with scrutinizing and narrowed hazel eyes. Lukas stared at them impassively as he stated calmly to break the awkwardness of their stares, "If we don't state how we feel then we'll keep it all inside. The effects of that can be unhealthy mentally, and we'll need all of our wits intact."

Matthew offered uncertainly, "I-I'm s-still sort o-of cold, though I g-guess that's be-better then thinking I'm w-warm?" Lukas nodded. "You should probably sleep when you can since you'll need your energy." Lukas warned before shifting his gaze to Lovino. Lovino hesitated for mumbling, "My arm is just kind of sore, its fine." Lukas pursed his lips and even Matthew didn't look like he believed the Italian's words, though it wasn't as though anyone had a stitching kit in their sleeves.

"I-I'm going t-to eat panc-cakes as soon as I-I get ho-home." Matthew's suddenly determined voice came next, surprisingly enough, and he didn't even flush under the combined scrutiny of Lukas' and Lovino's gazes. Lukas thought for a moment. "I think I'll hide in my house for a while and dig a tunnel to my brother's and lock him away forever," Lukas mused thoughtfully, managing to sound serious. Matthew grinned weakly for a moment despite shivering at that instance and Lovino even looked faintly amused.

"I'll probably do the same," Lovino added after a hesitant moment. "Or more like Spain will lock _me_ up." There was a contemplative silence. "A-Alfred'll proba-ably do the s-same, now th-that I think of-f it…" Lukas hummed in agreement. "Denmark always has been paranoid when it comes to our group…"

There was a resigned sigh. "I feel like I should be putting up a bit more of a fight considering we all have bastards who'll probably lock us up and never leave us alone if they find us." Lovino grumbled indignantly.

"_When_," Lukas stressed, "_when_ they find us. They will, definitely, and there are plenty of ways for them to be tracking us." Matthew and Lovino traded looks before simultaneously staring at Lukas like he'd grown a second head which, unfortunately, was impossible since magic was negated by iron anyways, and this building wherever they were was full of it. Lukas elaborated, "Doctor A mentioned there were videos being sent out to those closest to each of us individually. So there will be traces, just not o-obv-"

Lukas broke off in a violent coughing fit, unable to ignore the burning in his throat any longer. He felt Lovino's and Matthew's concerned gazes as the fit lasted for more than a couple minutes, to the point Lukas struggled to regain his breath fast enough. Matthew rubbed his back cautiously, and slowly the fit subsided.

The almost lighthearted atmosphere that had been gradually building died, all three reminded blindingly of the situation they were in and the conversation died off.

"Videos?" Lovino muttered. Lukas nodded, eyes trained at the wall as he avoided Matthew's indigo gaze. "Y-yes," was all he said in a much quieter voice than before despite not having been very loud earlier to begin with. Matthew said nothing, glancing between the Norwegian and Italian respectively in an almost solemn manner, eyes deep in thought.

No more were spoken for what seemed to be a long while afterwards.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Taken By Day**_

**_So_**_ we've almost made it to the thirty-page mark… This is exciting, guys! :D Thank you for the Reviews, Follows, Favorites, and views everyone! I live and aim to please. UuU_

_(There are maybe ten chapters left? At least that's the plan, but when does that count for anything? XD)_

_Ah, but what's this Chapter? Oh my! Familial Angst ahoy! :O! Do tell me what you all think! **BecauseomgIloveyouguys.**_

_The video sender is…?!_

**_And I forgot to mention this earlier_**_ in accordance to an earlier PM, but in this fic when Norway, Romano or Canada are being, ah, _tortured_, they are NOT affecting they're individual economies. With how often some of the countries get into bodily fights in canon, it's kind of impossible, isn't it? :3 So yes, thought I might clear that up while I remembered. Cheers with that thought!_

**_VOTING BONE; _**_Would you prefer I finish this fic before starting on another project? (Remember, your votes are taken into account when put into a review as I hate dealing with Polls!)_

_– CHAPTER EIGHT –_

Denmark thought he was going to be sick. He didn't feel like a self-proclaimed King of the North, he felt like sitting down in a chair and never leaving his house again. But he couldn't afford the luxury, Denmark belatedly remembered, as the sound of Ice becoming physically sick came again from the direction of the bathroom. Fin and Sweden were in there with the youngest Nordic, comforting him.

The video they received about Nor – _Nor_, of all nations! – was absolutely sickening and twisted. The memory of the way Nor screamed… It brought up bad memories, memories Denmark would rather forget about. By Sweden's face, he wasn't the only one.

It wasn't much of a comfort that little Peter had been sent to his room while the recording played, and even less of a comfort that Fin and Ice had never seen Nor like that.

But the expression on Nor's normally unflappable and emotionless face – that was something Denmark, not as a nation but as the person named Matthias, that was the one thing he could never forgive outside of Nor's kidnapping. Because that was an expression no one, but especially not Nor, should ever wear.

When Ice eventually came back in, his eyes were red and teary still. His shoulders were hunched miserably and Fin was rubbing his hand in a circular motion on his back in an almost soothing manner. Sweden was just a couple steps behind Fin, brows furrowed even as he kept shooting dark looks at the television they had watched the recording.

Denmark swallowed a sigh. It seemed highly inappropriate in such a tense and somber atmosphere. Nor was out there after being collared like a dog, and Ice wasn't exactly dealing with it very well – Denmark would be willing to become a religious man if for no reason other than being thankful Ice had such a good friend in Hong Kong to keep him grounded. At least Peter didn't really understand what was going on very well, and it looked like Fin and Sweden were keeping it that way.

("_Please! Stop, it hurts PLEASE STOPSTOPSTOP_-")

* * *

><p>Italy Veneziano was no fool, or at least not as stupid as everyone seemed to think he was. Germany, Japan and Prussia had been tiptoeing around the subject of Romano's kidnapping – nationnapping? – for days. It was, quite frankly, annoying by the end of the <em>first<em> day, and was now plain obnoxious.

This wasn't to say Italy wasn't upset by his older brother's disappearance, because he was! But people often forgot that, despite Italy's easy-going and innocent appearance, he wasn't a descendant of Rome for nothing and had been in more than his fair share of wars, messy things.

And while the idea of anyone cutting into his brother's arm was beyond horrifying, Italy wasn't a child, and to be honest – as terrible as it was to say – Italy had seen worst. They were countries, after all. War was practically written in the criteria.

Spain at the very least wasn't bothering with sugarcoating anything and was actually being rather useful in getting closer to a more precise location. They had already crossed out Hungary, Poland, Germany, and Bulgaria as possible locations and were currently checking the video feed connection for an Austrian or Romanian address.

(_Italy didn't know if he could bear the thought of a German being behind this_.)

* * *

><p>Francis Bonnefoy, or better known as France, had a serious expression which contrasted greatly on his face. He stood over America's shoulders, pointing at the red dots on the computer screen. "What are those, Amerique?" Alfred didn't spare a glance towards Francis, though Francis didn't mind.<p>

"Those are the guaranteed locations or countries that have been cleared as most likely to not be where Mattie is; it's a joint server with Spain and Italy, and shows the progress we've made by using triangular trajectory outside of attempting to find the country address the video link encryption carried," was the mumbled, almost absent-minded response that may have seemed callous or cold in nature if not for the tell-tale signs of the dark rings under Alfred's eyes. Francis nodded, only vaguely understanding what that meant. Technology was suited better as Alfred's domain.

The only sound in the room was the click-clacking of Alfred's nimble fingers against more than one set of keyboards – Francis couldn't quite tell how many with the dozen maps and messily stacked piles of paper that were hazardously spread across the desk – or desks. Francis ran a hand through his hair, unable to remember a time when he felt more useless than what he was feeling right then, and what he'd been feeling since Mathieu turned out to be missing.

Mathieu was very much a son to Francis as much as he was Alfred's brother and twin – capital burnings aside. That was just a phase, not that they – either – would be prone to admitting it without excessive use of alcohol. But Francis mentally shook himself, now wasn't the time for old sentimentalities.

No, instead Francis remained useless and tense in the shoulders as he watched Alfred work his own brand of magic.

(_Francis really hoped Mathieu wasn't suffering any internal damage from drowning_.)

* * *

><p>Anthony Prentice was a fairly simple man. Or maybe he would be considered complex? Either or, he mused quietly without any real sense of amusement. Anthony honestly had better things to be doing with his time, he supposed, then to just sit in his comfortable desk chair, but for the life of himself he couldn't remember what he could be doing,<em> anything<em>, then to just be sitting there, bored out of his mind.

But then, he had already sent out the videos, so what else could he do but sit there?

Anthony wasn't an especially tall man, nor was he an exceedingly strong one either. He was average in appearance and average in intelligence. Overall, Anthony was a genuinely very average man. The only thing that hinted to an abnormality in Anthony was that Prentice wasn't his actual surname, but it wasn't like anyone asked you for credentials when they sought you out in this sort of _company_.

But Anthony wasn't known for compassion, he wasn't known for kindness or thoughtfulness, so it was a bit of a mystery even to himself why he was even in this building, with these sorts of people that would be better off labeled as monsters.

He begrudgingly decided it was the fact that despite how these nations in personified bodies weren't really human, they had the emotions and psyche of one. It might even have been how young they looked despite logically knowing they had century's worth of knowledge Anthony couldn't even dream of comprehending.

Anthony might even just be a secret sucker for the eyes.

But still, just listening to the live audio feed that was cleverly wired into the walls of the small cell-like room made Anthony uneasy and some other feeling. It wasn't an emotion he felt often, the one that made his blood run cold and hands become shaky and clammy, but it was one he'd familiarized himself with over the days as he became a silent observer to the three nation's conversations.

Anthony hoped he wasn't becoming sentimental; he had a job to do.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Taken By Day**_

**_Ooh, I'm so sorry_**_ for such a postponed chapter, everyone! I had approximately 2,000 words of this typed up before Christmas Break even _began_, but I had to go out of state for family reasons where I was unable to use my lap top, so, uh… Gomen?! D: Forgive me!_

_I'm not even human… I make you wait so long, and for a cliffhanger! *Hides*_

**_Thanks_**_ to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited with that last chapter! I was actually pretty unsure about it, so I'm glad you enjoyed it! =7= And one review made me laugh, since I was actually already typing this to be a joint torture "preview" chapter, so to speak!_

**_Oh, and a quick update_**_ on that last Voting Bone – since it appears a couple of you recommend I finish this before I start another project with very valid points, that's precisely what I shall do!_

**_VOTING BONE; _**_Ideas for joint torture, if you would! ;D_

* * *

><p><em>– CHAPTER NINE –<em>

Lovino, Lukas, and Matthew were sitting in silence when the door slammed open for what seemed to have been the dozenth time. Lovino felt icy cold tendrils of fear clench at his stomach unpleasantly at the sight of the door being opened. Was it his turn again? Lovino would admit to himself a very guilty sense of relief when the man in the doorway grabbed the arm of the nearest person, who happened to be Matthew.

Matthew's face was tight and drawn with tension, and despite his attempt at being as stone faced as Lukas fear still shone brightly in his eyes. When a separate man, initially hidden behind the bulk of the first, stepped up and made a grab for Lovino's arm it was all he could do to keep from weeping when he grabbed the very arm he had been avoiding looking at for what must have been at least four days – a week, maybe? As it was, his eyes watered and a hiss of pain escaped him as he was forcibly tugged upwards.

When Lukas was grabbed next, Lovino almost had the ridiculous notion they were to be killed, which was as impossible as it was improbable since not only could Nations never die with their land in existence, but it was doubtful these people had gotten every scrap of useful information already. As it was, seeing Lukas' face turn from undisturbed to wary was highly nerve racking as he was hoisted up.

Lovino was unable to see Matthew's face at the current angle, but he figured the Canadian's expression was far from pleasant from the visibly tense shoulders.

It was a longer walk then the last time Lovino was outside the ro- _cell_. Not a room, it couldn't possibly be a room, Lovino silently corrected himself. But nevertheless the walk was longer, filled only with the metallic pangs that accompanied each footstep in the tastelessly white, sterile hallway.

In the same order as they were dragged out of the room, they were pushed into an entirely new one. It was a much, much larger space, the kind of big that reminded Lovino of an unfinished project. Feliciano probably could have put it better, though Lovino wasn't in the mood for being poetic.

The space of the room could easily have been the size of a small warehouse. There was an assortment of boxes of every height or width, most much taller and wider than a human could possibly be, with narrow or wide hallways formed from the precision of the layout.

It was the voice that came from an unknown location that caused Lovino to tense slightly, his current version of jumping in surprise. From the corner of his eye Lovino could see Lukas' eyes harden in an almost furious manner as Matthew visibly jumped, swallowing thickly as his eyes darted around the much smaller space between them and the boxes.

It seemed Matthew at least had a suspicion as to what they were doing today, Lovino realized with something akin to sardonic amusement.

"_In front of you is the entrance to our prestigious maze_," Said a slow, almost-but-not-quite mocking voice that cut cleanly through the air, disturbed only by the static which seemed to succeed in making the voice only that much more detached. Lukas seemed to stiffen suddenly, gaze minutely shifting to some point at the wall, and when Lovino peered at the direction he noticed how the light reflected differently on the surface. It was most likely a false wall, one of those one-sided types that appeared as clear glass on the other side. Lovino couldn't say he would be very surprised if at all if that turned out to be true.

The voice continued contemptuously, "_Inside this maze is a multitude of weapons useful for close combat. You will each attempt to survive. Alliances will not be tolerated. Your goal is to be the last subject standing. Your designated enemy is each other in an unspecified order or arrangement_." Lovino felt his insides freeze. If he thought he was cold before, it was nothing compared to this clammy, sick feeling of having a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He didn't know if he could bear looking at Matthew's or Lukas' reactions at the moment. The voice finished,

"_Make your way inside the maze and commence the test_."

* * *

><p>"Spain! Spain! <em>Spagna<em>!" Spain's head shot up blearily at Italy's desperate voice, quickly lurching to his feet unsteadily. "S-si, Italy?" Italy's head poked into the room, his eyes opened widely. He seemed to flounder somewhat, his mouth opening and snapping close twice before he said loudly,

"Romano is on the tv!"

"_Que_?"

Spain wasted no time in quickly darting out the room, just barely a footstep behind Italy. Germany, Prussia and Japan were already in the room where the television was situated, each surrounded by a tense aura as they stared uneasily at the screen. When Spain slid to a stop, he saw why.

There was indeed Roma on the screen, along with sweet Canada and cold Norway. All three looked worse for wear, and it appeared as if they had traded clothes at one point. Canada was wearing a jacket that seemed too tight to belong to him, and Norway was definitely wearing Roma's shirt. Roma was wearing what must have been Canada's jacket and looked noticeably thinner than the last time Spain saw him. Spain didn't know the other two that well, but he would say they were thinner, also.

The room was filled to the brim with cardboard boxes, or maybe they were cardboard in appearance alone, that seemed to be in a distinctively organized pattern, and while it was obvious something was being said to the three, no sound came from the television. It was Roma's – _Lovino, Lovi, precious Lovi_! – face turning from anxious, tired and wary to horrified and a sickly pale in an instant that caught Antonio's attention.

Canada appeared to flinch and say something, though he seemed to shrink more into himself at whatever may have been said next from some unknown source. Norway seemed uncharacteristically bold and infuriated, and if Antonio didn't know better he would almost say the next words were shouted as the Norwegian spun around, glaring at the metallic wall of the open-spaced room. Lovi was silent, and he looked admittedly terrified, speaking soundlessly and rapidly from Antonio's perspective.

There was a pause that lasted for several long, tense moments. Finally, Lovi seemed to walk stiffly towards the boxes. When Canada said something, appearing to plead – and _oh_ was Antonio becoming swiftly aggravated at having no idea what was going on – Lovi snapped something back which caused the taller male to fall silent.

And Lovi entered the threshold of boxes, giving Antonio a moment to analyze the layout from the momentary bird's eye view. "Is anyone else receiving this?" He murmured to Feliciano. The auburn haired male pursed his lips in the corner of Spain's eye. "I… I'm not sure, Spagna. We'd just gotten the feed when I fetched you, but since there isn't a time or date I'm almost sure this is live." Antonio nodded, eyes staring unflinchingly at the screen even as an idea took root in his mind when he caught sight of several suspicious objects spread out on the ground in the box-formed hallways.

"Italy," Spain said, _feeling_ himself pale as he saw Roma hesitantly pick up what appeared to be a small blade from the ground, "Call America, because if you're right and this is _live_… That means somewhere, wherever Lovi is, there's a signal."

* * *

><p>America was already watching the live feed when he received a phone call from Italy, and he was also already on three computers at once, working with Estonia and Japan on tracing the signal back to its source. His initial reaction to waking up and finding he'd fallen asleep at his desk had been to grab more coffee, though he'd thrown his coffee maker out the window when he saw Mattie on the tv. So there he was, in the middle of a three-way phone conversation with the two fellow hackers, and only a single cup of coffee that was admittedly almost empty.<p>

And there was the broken window, but that was unimportant for the moment.

America stubbornly ignored the soundless television despite the very urge, the very _want,_ of just seeing Mattie. He ignored it in favor of helping Mattie rather than indulging in the fervent need of seeing his twin and neighbor. Though America – or _Alfred_, rather, he had to remember to at least retain some humanity for the moment – prayed with every fiber of his being that he wouldn't stray in this single most important task…

Fifty eight countries had already been crossed out thanks to Japan and Estonia's help since the video began streaming, and that was technically about a quarter of the world!

But despite that, he answered his phone when Italy called. "Yeah?" He grunted, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear. America thought Italy inhaled before speaking. "Have you seen the-"

America cut him off rudely albeit absentmindedly. "Yeah, I've seen it. We're tracing it now, and we've got it narrowed down a bit, too."

There was a slight pause where Italy's voice seemed muffled; he was probably saying something to either Germany or Spain, maybe even Prussia. "I see – thank you, America."

There was more than one thanks in that verbal show of gratitude and America felt his hands still a moment before they quickened again. "Yeah… Yeah, no problem Italy, you know that."

"America-san!" Kiku's voice came through the speaker, suddenly, and cut off whatever Italy may have said, sounding rushed, almost victorious and definitely stressed. America felt slightly guilty for that, he would have to find a way to repay the polite male when this was all done. Estonia, too, for that matter.

"America-san, we've cornered the stream IP address – it's in Australia!"

America felt a vindictive surge of glee and triumph despite the large area he knew they would have to search.

* * *

><p>Emil's hands were laced together tightly despite the visible shaking, bone white colored tint as he squeezed anxiously. Canada had waited, hesitating for only a moment before he dashed inside the box structure after the southern half of Italy. Nor seemed to grow tenser with each passing moment, and a thunderous expression appeared momentarily on his face before he set his jaw and practically flew into the maze, for lack of a better term.<p>

Something that someone said had evidentially pissed Nor off. It was almost amusing how this was what caught Emil off guard, though maybe he wasn't really in the right state of mind to judge considering he wasn't even _in_ his mind with how worried he was. There wasn't any sound in the room, only the occasional twitch from the occupants.

Finland watched with an uneasy expression glued to his face, hand clasped tightly with Sweden's. Sweden himself seemed absolutely terrifying, nothing like the normally intimidating presence he naturally possessed. Denmark had a hand on Emil's shoulder from his place to the right of the younger, the grip tightening dangerously as Nor stomped into the maze.

The point of view suddenly switched rapidly, going through several quick transitions until it came upon a side angle focused on Nor. Emil paled when he saw Nor pick up what appeared to be a baseball bat. They wouldn't be fighting, would they? But if so, who? Emil didn't think he wanted to know.

Nor suddenly appeared to be staring right at them and Emil nearly flinched at the coldness in the fathomless eyes that seemingly pierced right through them, through _him_. With a set jaw, Norway seemed to grip the bat tighter before marching off down the hallway.

The view switched away suddenly to a different angle.

* * *

><p>Lukas had half expected to bump into Lovino first, though it would have been a bitter sort of irony to bump into Matthew instead. Lukas, despite his utter contempt and hate for the task he would undoubtedly complete, was regretful he would have to kill his fellow countries when he really didn't have an issue with the two. If one looked at it from a biological standpoint, Lukas could almost consider the Canadian something of a cousin… Probably. Genetics were confusing.<p>

But maybe it was with that sort of thought process in his brain that made Lukas feel just the slightest bit of guilty relief that it was the southern Italian who he bumped into first.

Lovino had his eyes trained warily on Lukas, eyes flickering to the baseball bat in his hand that was in a deceptively loose grip. Lukas in turn noted the small, knife-like blade in the Italian's white-knuckled grip. Lovino broke the silence first,

"I didn't think you were the kind of guy to be into baseball, Norway." Lukas didn't respond right away, acknowledging the switch to his country's name. There would be no holding back; not with both of theirs and Matthew's brothers health on the line.

"I didn't think you were into knives, Italy." The northern half wasn't there, so it was a bit of respect that Lukas, or rather Norway, could at the very least acknowledge. The southern half of Italy gave a light, almost careless shrug that was given away by cold and calculating hazel eyes that glinted at him.

Terse, almost apologetic nods were traded before Norway took the first move.


End file.
